


ars longa, vita brevis

by AccursedSpatula



Series: astra inclinant, sed non obligant [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn backstory, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Graffiti, Intercrural Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Outing, Period-Typical Homophobia, Secret Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 08:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14421792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedSpatula/pseuds/AccursedSpatula
Summary: “Well, are you happy now? Did it live up to your expectations?”Gilgamesh hummed beside him, chuckling softly. “I suppose.” He ran fingers along his jawline, stroking his beard there. “They didn’t quite get my beard right, though.”“There’s graffiti of us being intimate on our front wall and you’re worried about how they painted your beard,” Ardyn said flatly, and Gilgamesh chuckled beside him, rolling into full, deep laughter, the kind that was so infectious Ardyn found himself snickering a moment later.





	ars longa, vita brevis

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the ever diligent and ever kind [sordes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sordes).
> 
> Title from the Latin phrase meaning "art is long, life is brief." Takes place three years prior to [si vales valeo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398929) again with the assumption that proto-Lucis was a republic.
> 
> Special thanks again to [Sauronix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauronix), [aliatori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori), and [roadsoftrial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial) for listening to me whine endlessly.

Gilgamesh really was a _wonder,_ Ardyn thought.

The man moved like water, with unprecedented grace and fluidity, dextrous despite his size, yet still full of sheer power, the likes of which Ardyn had never seen before. He managed to shrug off blows from grown men like they were insect bites, could hit back with enough force to knock a man off his feet and not even exert himself, handle any weapon like he’d trained from birth with it. It was no wonder that Somnus had hand chosen him to serve at his side; a fighter with his prowess was a rarity, just as valuable as he was skilled.

And he was rather personable, Ardyn had found, hardly the rough, crude savage he’d been expecting when they first met. He learned fast, and he was good conversation, though their tongue was his second language, and Ardyn sometimes wondered how much more articulate Gilgamesh was in his native language. Although lacking a little in classical education, he made up for it with a sort of worldliness, his lived experiences bolstering his knowledge versus ones he’d read from books. It was no wonder that Ardyn had taken a shining to him rather quickly.

To Somnus, to any of their acquaintances, anyone who saw them out and about, they were close friends.

But behind closed doors, when it was just the two of them, they were far closer.

The romantic half of their relationship had started two months ago, after just over a year of passes, of looks and touches, of feeling out one another in an odd sort of courtship that danced around Gilgamesh’s servitude to their family. It had built up only to spill over one night, and Ardyn had never looked back. His relationship with Gilgamesh was new, novel─it was the first time he had ever been able to connect with a lover outside of the physical aspects of a relationship.

Anything romantic between them was kept sub rosa, stolen moments when they could be afforded privacy, either late at night or somewhere secluded where Ardyn could let _his_ guard down. Ardyn was careful to keep things discrete; although he had a reputation as being a bachelor, and he knew the servants had talked of his liaisons with men in the past, he never wanted things to fully come out, especially now that Gilgamesh was involved.

It was an odd, inconvenient arrangement, but one that was still better than any of those Ardyn had had in the past. He greatly enjoyed Gilgamesh’s company, and lamented the fact that they couldn’t be overt in public, and Gilgamesh more than reciprocated his affections. Ever boisterous and gregarious, he wasn’t shy about anything, constantly voicing his opinions, wants, and objections.

(Yet he never objected to anything Ardyn had to say or do.)

Ardyn mulled all of this over, their fledgling relationship and his large, worsening soft spot for Gilgamesh, as he watched him spar against his brother out in the peristylium to an audience of a handful of tribunes and legates. He was mostly there to make sure none of them walked away injured, their resident physician and healer, sitting comfortably on a bench in the shade under the awning, out of the heat and sunlight that bore down on the rest of the garden. He didn’t mind observing─although occasionally he’d participate in a match or two against his brother, having had more than enough training in it to develop an appreciation for good swordplay and technique, it was always much more of a pleasure to watch Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh had gone three rounds already, two with Ardyn’s brother, one with one of the other young tribunes who had served with them on the campaign. They were vicious, long rounds, but Ardyn knew that Gilgamesh was in control the entire time, instead prolonging the fights through careful manipulation of his footwork and strikes, toying with them, a large, experienced tomcat with two naive mice.

Ardyn found it all rather amusing, really.

At the end of the third round he was called down to check over the tribune’s shoulder, making sure it wasn’t dislocated or overextended. The young man was fine, and Ardyn was about to retreat to his post when Gilgamesh stepped in front of him, training sword in hand.

Ardyn hesitated, and Gilgamesh beamed at him, then twisted the sword, holding the handle out to Ardyn. “Go a round?”

Ardyn held up his hand to decline. “I’m afraid today I’m just making certain the only things that are bruised are egos.”

“Nonsense, brother,” Somnus said from his perch on the bench near the tribune. “Indulge the man.”

Ardyn frowned. Gilgamesh dropped his arm, about to withdraw the sword and his offer, but Ardyn reached forward, snatching the handle. “Shield, please.”

The tribune handed one over, and Ardyn took it up as Gilgamesh replaced his training sword. He rolled out his shoulder as they circled one another, Gilgamesh swinging the sword in slow, lazy circles in his hand, testing out its balance.

Gilgamesh was the first to swing, snatching up his sword and slashing so fast Ardyn barely had time to react, lifting his shield arm to block the strike. He was always surprised at how fast Gilgamesh could move despite his size, perfectly in control of his limbs. He had barely a second of reprieve before Gilgamesh was back on him, this time cutting low before raising his sword and striking back downwards. Gilgamesh was never the type to hold back in a match, even against Ardyn, the very charge he was sworn to protect, and his forwardness had always been appreciated.

Ardyn raised his shield, blocking the onslaught, his left arm struggling to hold up under the strain. He planted his back foot, throwing his weight forward, and then turned slightly as Gilgamesh brought his shield down again. The blow glanced off, forcing Gilgamesh to take a step forward to catch his balance, although he kept his composure and moved fluidly, not giving Ardyn the opening he’d hoped for.

Ardyn spun, putting his shield back in front of him just as Gilgamesh swung at him again. Their shields collided with a sharp _clack,_ Ardyn bracing himself, slinging off the blow and thrusting forward with his sword. The strike went wide, missing Gilgamesh, and before Ardyn could draw his arm back in and counter Gilgamesh shoved his shield into his side, knocking him back. A second hit sent him to the dirt, on his back, knocking the wind out of him, his sword clattering to the ground beside him, and before Ardyn even had a chance to react, the tip of Gilgamesh’s sword was resting in the hollow of his throat.

“Submit?” he asked, almost daring Ardyn to try and get up again. He could, could kick for his legs and hope it would be enough to distract him, but Ardyn was tired and he knew no matter how long this match went on it would only end the same way.

He nodded, and Gilgamesh drew the point of the sword away, putting it in his shield hand to reach down and offer Ardyn a hand up. Ardyn hesitated for a second, aware that the others were staring at them, but then grasped Gilgamesh’s arm, letting the larger man haul him to his feet.

Ardyn moved to step backwards, but Gilgamesh kept his hold on Ardyn’s arm, tugging him in closer. He leaned in slightly, face hovering near Ardyn’s own, so close he could feel his breath on his cheek. Ardyn made to pull away again, but Gilgamesh dug his fingers in, intent clear.

“Isn’t there a prize involved,” he said, very quietly, “for besting you?”

He tilted his head, shifting forward slightly, lips slightly parted. Ardyn knew exactly what he was asking for─a kiss, out here, in front of all of these men─and he wrenched his arm away with unprecedented urgency. Gilgamesh let him go, shock replacing the flirtatious expression he’d worn moments earlier, hand falling to his side as he released Ardyn’s arm.

Ardyn looked at him sternly for second, silently admonishing him for asking for such a thing out _here._ Gilgamesh knew the rules of their relationship, knew better than to ask for something like that in public. Upon seeing Gilgamesh’s shocked, confused, and saddened reaction, Ardyn’s anger faded to just _hurt,_ and then he turned, walking quickly to the edge, forgetting about his sword entirely. He shucked the shield and tossed it towards the others, not breaking stride as he did so, focused instead on the wide double doors leading in to the estate.

As he entered the tablinum, empty and deserted as a reception tended to be, Ardyn heard footsteps following him, sharp, firm taps on the marble. Ardyn didn’t stop, didn’t even slow, continuing on to the atrium, descending the stairs and rounding the corner of the impluvium, the water in the pool rippling slowly.

“Ardyn.”

Gilgamesh’s voice was firm but not angry, instead laced with concern. Ardyn reluctantly hesitated at the sound of his name, not his title, glancing over his shoulder as Gilgamesh entered the room and stopped on the short stairs to the sunken floor.

They made eye contact, briefly, and then Gilgamesh continued down the stairs, taking a few steps towards Ardyn. He came to a halt a few feet away, and Ardyn dropped his gaze to the surface of the water in the impluvium, staring instead at Gilgamesh’s reflection in the pool.

“Why would you...” Ardyn began, trying to string the rest of his sentence together, instead coming up with a rush of emotions and jumbled sentiments.

“I’m sorry. I lost my head.”

“We can’t do things like that,” Ardyn said quietly. Very slowly he raised his gaze to meet Gilgamesh’s, surprised to see his own hurt mirrored in Gilgamesh’s own expression.

“I know,” Gilgamesh replied. “I understand.”

“Do you?” Ardyn said, not missing a beat, his tone perhaps a little too harsh judging from how Gilgamesh looked away. He sighed and raked his hand through his hair, regretting his words, his tone, regretting storming away, regretting all of this.

“Your repute is at stake in all of this, too,” Ardyn added softly.

“They’re only rumors.”

“Not much of a rumor if it’s true.” Ardyn punctuated his sentence with a sad, light laugh.

“Fine. They’re only words, then.”

Ardyn was silent for a long moment. “Even if they are just words, and even if they _are_ true, I don’t... want them being spoken about us. About _you._ ”

Gilgamesh’s lips pulled into a cocky grin. “You don’t need to worry for me.”

Ardyn gave him a flat look. “And you know I don’t want to be the root of your sullied reputation. I don’t want to hear how Somnus’s deviant brother has seduced his finest warrior through _witchcraft_ or─”

Gilgamesh silenced him by reaching for his hand, taking it briefly. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “But you and I both know the truth.” He offered Ardyn a comforting smile, and Ardyn almost hated the affection he found there, looking away after a moment. This would all be so much easier if there were no care between them, like he was used to, just quick, physical encounters with no sense of endearment attached to any of it.

Ardyn looked back to the impluvium as Gilgamesh released his hand. He watched Gilgamesh’s reflection turn away from his own, growing smaller as he stepped away until he dropped off the edge, his image no longer mirrored on the smooth surface of the water as he left the room. Somehow it was easier to watch these copies than to look at the tangible form of his lover has he turned and left─the consequences weren’t real for these figures, for these echoes of his reality.

Ardyn gave his own reflection a hard once over before he, too, turned away and left the room.

\---

Ardyn hated leaving things unresolved.

By evening, he was ready to kiss and make up, figuratively and literally, fussing about in his chambers after dinner, bored and almost anxious, thinking about what had happened earlier and how best to remedy it. It bothered him, parting on such terms in the atrium, the look on Gilgamesh’s face lingering in his mind’s eye. He wanted nothing more than to apologize for being so harsh.

Yet he hadn’t gone to Gilgamesh that night, and neither had Gilgamesh called upon him. The space was needed, Ardyn reasoned, even though he’d felt lonely that night, lying in the dark, so tempted by the thought of wandering the halls to Gilgamesh’s own bedchamber. Eventually he’d fallen into a dreamless sleep, waking once to the quiet darkness of his room.

He’d risen after dawn that morning, later than usual, and had been loath to start his routine, dragging himself through all of his usual steps. He managed to mostly dress himself before leaving his chambers and flitted through the halls, beginning to realize just how late he was. 

Ardyn was still busying himself with the fastenings, eyes trained on the bronze clasp, as he descended the stairs down from the estate on the west side, dodging a servant going the other way. He finished buckling the clasp, adjusting his robes as he crossed the garden toward the gate, where a few of the servants stood milling about. Ardyn could sense the buzz in the air, and wondered just why they had all gathered.

“Dominus!”

Ardyn stopped, searching for whoever had said his title. The vilicus pushed past two other men at the gate, taking a few steps towards Ardyn before he dipped his head in reverence. 

“Dominus, I think it might be best if you left via the east gate today,” the vilicus said, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at the gaggle of servants.

“Why?” Ardyn asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “What’s going on?”

“Dominus─”

Ardyn moved with purpose now, breezing past the vilicus to the gate, the servants scattering as he approached. He stepped through the open gate, rounding the edge and stepping onto the street, following the last two stragglers who stood before the front wall, wondering just what could have everyone up in such a--

_Oh._

Ardyn came to a stop, drawing in a sharp breath, his fingers curled into loose, weak fists at his sides. He drew his lips into a line as he surveyed the wall before him, trying to ignore the whispers of the two servants nearby.

There, painted boldly on the plaster of the wall, were the vulgar, crude shapes of two naked men, one (painted with red, wild hair, _whoever could that be?_ ) kneeling before the other, larger figure. There was a caption carved into the wall below it, so that it couldn’t be so easily painted over and concealed, but Ardyn didn’t even bother reading it. The message was clear enough even without the words.

“Apologies, Dominus,” the vilicus said, approaching slowly from the side. “We didn’t want you to see this.”

_I would have rather not seen it, either._

It was every fear Ardyn had ever held in his heart about the status of their relationship put to light, the exact reason why he was so careful to keep his affections private thrown up on the wall before him, a personal violation of his property to remind him just how _deviant_ he was.

Ardyn swallowed thickly, feeling his face heat with shame. “Can you... take care of it by this evening?”

“We need to plaster and repaint the wall, Dominus,” the vilicus answered. “I’ve sent for a mason, but I don’t know if it can be done by sundown.”

“Then cover it,” Ardyn said, shoving some confidence in his voice. Although he might currently be depicted as a cocksucker on the front of his estate, he was _still_ Dominus. “And I want it gone as quickly as possible.”

“Of course.”

\---

_You have to tell him._

That thought circled around Ardyn’s mind throughout the morning’s tasks at the valetudinarium, tending to the sick and injured who had sought refuge there. _Or perhaps I don’t,_ his conscience had countered. _Perhaps he’ll hear on his own, and I don’t have to be the one to deliver the news of our disgrace to him._

From there it was a back and forth, a mental duel with himself. The points were always the same, just phrased differently, the arguments viewed through a slightly different lens. Ardyn had reached his conclusion the first time, before he’d even really debated himself, and it was the same conclusion he came back to as he moved from patient to patient.

_And what if he doesn’t hear? Will you keep that secret from him?_

_I shouldn’t burden him with such information._

Ardyn was no closer to a decision by the time he saw to the last of the most critical patients, leaving that debate unresolved for the time being. Instead he chose to ponder just _how_ Gilgamesh would react to the news if told as he moved about the hospital, tending to the other tasks. He allowed himself to ruminate on it as he tended to the less urgent cases, and then ensured that the operating tables and surgical tools were cleaned off from the morning’s activities. All easy tasks, all easily handled, and before long Ardyn found his anxieties welling back up.

There was no way Gilgamesh could take this well, at least as far as Ardyn could see it. Although decidedly more affectionate and decidedly less reserved than Ardyn was, Gilgamesh still prided himself on his reputation, one that would be no doubt undercut should his relationship with Ardyn become the subject of public rumor. Strong men like that took wives and fathered dozens of children, testaments to masculine virility; they didn’t carry on with other, effete men under cover of darkness.

Although Gilgamesh had always been more open about being with Ardyn, never one to mind the occasional brush or touch out in public, the not-so-subtle flirting in the triclinium, Ardyn knew this was totally and utterly different. _This_ was out of his control, an acknowledgement of their relationship that neither had been a participant in making. Things were no longer on their terms.

Gilgamesh would choose to end things between them, Ardyn realized. He’d do it to save face, cut things off in a quiet manner, and although it was far from the first time a lover had left him to prevent discovery, the thought of losing Gilgamesh made Ardyn feel unbearably empty. No one had ever regarded him with such affection and warmth, had ever made him feel so _normal_ regarding his desires. Gilgamesh himself seemed to carry very little prejudice about his personal decision to lie with another man, which Ardyn found rather comforting and oddly liberating, but his behavior within the walls of their estate, or between the two of them, was no indicator of how accepting he would be of making their affairs _known._

Ardyn didn’t want to face the possibility that things would end between them.

And telling Gilgamesh would almost certainly turn that possibility into a reality.

He could see it in his mind’s eye as he tended the last of the non-urgent patients, setting broken ankles and sealing minor cuts. Gilgamesh would sigh, deeply, his shoulders sinking, turning away from Ardyn as he shook his head, and then there would be words, frustration, an admission Ardyn didn’t want to hear but one that he knew was inevitable.

_So then don’t tell him._

That was the obvious way around said problem, simply keep mum and hope that Gilgamesh never caught on to the predicament (and that it never happened again).

_So you would lie to him, then? Build your relationship upon a foundation of falsehoods?_

_A lie of omission is hardly a perversion of the truth. If he asked, I would tell him._

_But you wouldn’t volunteer that information?_

Ardyn hung on that point. Didn’t Gilgamesh _deserve_ to know? Didn’t he deserve the opportunity to decide for himself on whether or not he wanted to continue?

There was a sinking feeling in Ardyn’s bones, one that he recognized as _guilt_ for a crime he hadn’t even committed yet. Was he seriously considering this? It wasn’t like he were actually _obligated_ to tell Gilgamesh, but it was certainly dishonest to keep that information from him.

He was vacillating this question while sequestered in one of the surgeries, sealing up a gash on a careless butcher’s hand when his brother found him. He made no noise, just stood beside the doorway, so very regal in his uniform, his beautiful paludamentum draped off one shoulder, the purple cloak held in place by a shiny bronze clasp. They made eye contact, briefly, Ardyn nodding in acknowledgement before returning his attentions to the butcher.

Once the man was patched up and shown out of the surgery, Somnus finally detached himself from the wall, slowly meandering through the room while Ardyn threw away the bloodied bandages.

“Keeping yourself busy?”

“As always.” Ardyn turned to face him, raking a hand with bloodied fingertips through his hair. “What is it you need?”

“You didn’t happen to see the west wall this morning, did you?”

Ardyn looked to the ceiling, exasperated. “We’ve already sent for a mason─”

Somnus waved his hand, the plates of his manica clinking at the wrist and elbow. “I’m sure. I’ve every faith you’re taking care of it.” He licked his lips, pausing briefly before continuing. “And whatever it is you’re doing with him, I don’t care. But I don’t need word, let alone pictures, of my brother’s... _exploits_ to follow me.”

Ardyn said nothing, instead setting his jaw and grinding his teeth together. Somnus pursed his lips for a moment, letting the warning hang in the air between them.

Dismissively, Somnus waved his hand. “You remember that we’re hosting Crassus of the Valerii tonight, yes? The merchant? The one that I’m now going to have to instruct to enter through the east gate, lest he be graced by our lovely decorations.”

No, Ardyn didn’t, but in all honesty it didn’t matter.

“His daughter’s the one with the twisted foot, you know. Poor thing can hardly walk.” Somnus took a few meandering steps toward the window, looking at the iron frame embedded in it. “I’m sure he’d gladly reward whoever were able to cure here without some sort of... painful intervention.” He cast a glance at a rolled set of surgical tools lingering on the bench.

“Reward them with his financial and political support, you mean.”

“Oh, perhaps.” Somnus shrugged. “That _would_ be just the sort of thing a potential consul could have use for, however.”

There was a long beat between them, Somnus staring out the window at the city beyond them. Ardyn fixated on his own reflection in the glass─fingers bloody, robes stained, hair mussed, dark circles under his eyes from worry.

His gaze locked on Ardyn’s reflection, and they looked one another in the eye with the help of the window. “I take it you’ll be at dinner tonight?”

“Certainly.”

Somnus smiled. “Excellent.” He turned, crossing the room back to Ardyn with several calculated strides, stopping before him. A friendly hand patted Ardyn at the shoulder as that sacrosanct grin continued to twist his brother’s face. “Much appreciated.”

Ardyn said nothing, and Somnus stepped away a second later, moving to the door. He pulled the latch, pausing for a moment, glancing at Ardyn over his shoulder.

“And do try to be more discreet in the future,” he said, a final parting shot as he opened the door and stepped out.

Ardyn stared at the door for a long, long minute after his brother left, hands coiled into loose fists at his sides. He had to tell Gilgamesh, he knew. He had to hear it from Ardyn himself, and not snidely from Somnus or some other third party.

_I have to tell him._

\---

Ardyn was never one for politics.

It was always a mess of machinations, of promises constantly made and favors seldom granted, of words carefully chosen to convey the least amount of meaning possible. Wordplay was entertaining, of course, and the art of orating had always interested him, but Ardyn’s interest faded with the endless game these men played with each other, where the status quo always remained the same no matter who the players were.

His brother had integrity, Ardyn knew, but he worried for him the longer he continued his political career. In the military, he’d been on the straight and narrow, always a man of his word, always a man of duty, and Ardyn wondered how long until all of that was worn away, smoothed off like a stone tumbling in a river.

The evening was business as usual, a circus run by Somnus, seated at the left accubita in the triclinium tonight. It was the perfect spot, near the spotlight, enough to remind those in attendance just who they had come for, even though they were the ones being plied with flattery and food.

Ardyn had seen to the girl, a child of no more than five years, who was bright eyed and enthusiastic despite her ailment. The foot and ankle had been easy enough to treat, relaxing the ligaments and realigning the ankle, and soon enough she was bounding about. The sight of her, walking and running like she’d never been impaired, was enough to mildly lift Ardyn’s spirits for a bit and distract him from the quandary still weighing so heavily on him. Somnus nodded and smiled approvingly once, clearly pleased with Ardyn’s work, and Ardyn had given him a curt nod of acknowledgment in return.

He’d overindulged a little on the wine, trying to make the time go faster while trying to bolster his courage for the conversation that lay on the horizon, once he could be alone with Gilgamesh. Ardyn had been dodging his polite smiles and gaze all evening, occasionally flashing him a grin in return, just enough to stave off suspicion for now.

Eventually, his brother had taken his company to the smaller, more exclusive triclinium, allowing Ardyn to put forth a quick excuse about retiring that evening in order to stay behind. Gilgamesh had lingered, too, lounging on a separate sofa, idly plucking off grapes from one of the trays laying on his accubita.

They say in silence for a long stretch, with the hum of the insects outside and the occasional soft gust of night breeze drifting through the windows, both of them seemingly needing the time to recover from the ordeal that was entertaining. Normally, Ardyn enjoyed this, the quiet after hours opportunity to just sit in silence with his partner, without the pressure to police his behavior. But every time he looked at Gilgamesh now, his heart raced, wondering if this were the last time he’d get to enjoy such a moment.

Eventually, Ardyn reached over, plucking a plum and a knife from the tray that had been left on his own accubita, before shifting to his knees. He resettled himself at the foot of the sofa, where the head of Gilgamesh’s touched it, leaning himself against it. Gilgamesh craned his head to look up at him, smiling lazily as Ardyn cut into the plum, halving it, careful not to get the dark juice onto his clothing.

“What a dreadful crowd they were,” he said, holding the knife against his palm as he twisted the two halves of the plum, pulling them apart. Ardyn picked the pit out with the tip of the knife, depositing it onto the tray with a soft _tink,_ before returning his attentions to Gilgamesh.

“They seemed quite taken with you,” Gilgamesh replied.

“But of course,” Ardyn replied flatly, cutting a slice off one of the halves of the plums. “I’ve always been a charmer.” The bitterness was evident in his tone. He popped the slice in his mouth as Gilgamesh gave him a slightly concerned look in response to his comment.

“Are you suggesting something to the contrary?” Ardyn continued, pulling the knife through for a second slice. “You wound me.” _Deflect. Stall._ He cocked a brow, biting into the second slice.

“Never,” Gilgamesh replied. “Look how taken I am with you.”

Ardyn gave a hum of amusement. “Taken with me for all the wrong reasons,” he chided, brows pushed slightly together in mild distress, although he kept his gaze on the fruit in his hands, working off a third slice.

“I like to think there are a few of the right ones in there,” Gilgamesh said, sitting up, throwing one arm across the back of his sofa to lean against it as well, facing Ardyn where he sat.

“Just a few?” Ardyn held up the latest slice, lifting his gaze with it, and Gilgamesh parted his lips, letting Ardyn feed it to him, fingertips lingering on his plush lower lip. “You certainly know how to make a man feel special.”

Gilgamesh smiled wryly, eyes turning up at the corners, and Ardyn tapped his fingers against his lip before dropping his hand away, his gaze following suit. He turned the other half of the plum over in his hands, knife curled in his fingers, until Gilgamesh reached in, placing his index finger under Ardyn’s chin to tip his head up slightly as he leaned in to kiss him.

It was slow and sweet, a little chaste, Gilgamesh ending it with a little peck to Ardyn’s lips before he pulled away, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence.

“All right, that was a little better,” Ardyn murmured, his normal lazy smirk returning briefly to his face, only to be quickly wiped away he still cast one panicked, wary look through the door and down the hall, making sure none of the servants had been nearby.

“You worry too much,” Gilgamesh commented, pinching the sleeve of Ardyn’s robes.

“I’m just cautious.” Rather than slice it, Ardyn bit into the remaining half of the plum. “I have to be.”

“Even now?”

“Always.” Ardyn tried to play it off, smirking before taking another bite. He knew it was a flimsy ruse, but it was the only defense tactic he had left, especially with that morning so fresh in his mind.

 _What can you possibly even see in me,_ he wondered, sneaking a glance back at Gilgamesh. He was such a proud, fine warrior, whose list of accomplishments grew longer and longer with each campaign, who was shockingly charming and handsome and well spoken, educated not only on domestic affairs but on the various tribes and cultures they encountered on each venture.

And who was Ardyn? _Brother_ to their great general, a _healer_ (which had always been women’s work), bookish and rather soft by his own metric, a piddling scholar and a middling swordsman at best, a decent physician when he applied himself, but otherwise marked by no great talents.

Sometimes, in moments like these, under Gilgamesh’ affectionate gaze, Ardyn wanted to ask him just _why_ he would be willing to suffer those rumors and risk his reputation, why he wanted to be so brazen with their affections, but he knew that would come across as asking for flattery, and Ardyn didn’t want to seem that desperate.

_Whatever your reasons are, they’re wrong, because I’m not worth it._

_I’m not worth_ you _._

_But here we are anyway._

“What’s wrong?” There was genuine worry and sympathy in Gilgamesh’s voice now. Ardyn frowned at the concern. He didn’t want Gilgamesh to fret over him, not now, not when his proximity to Ardyn had potential to ruin his standing, his reputation, his _life_ just by association.

_I’m not worth it._

But he had to tell him. He had to let Gilgamesh know what had happened, had to let him make his own decision on how they would proceed.

Ardyn inhaled deeply, holding the breath for a moment before sighing, his shoulders heaving. “Did you hear about the west wall?”

“No,” Gilgamesh answered, with a tilt of his head. “What happened?”

“We were graced by a rather... lascivious depiction of myself and,” he paused, blinking a few times, his heart suddenly in his throat, “you.”

There was silence for a moment, one that Ardyn’s consciousness decided to occupy by giving him every possible scenario in which Gilgamesh would break things off, would elect to end their relationship to finally save face, Ardyn falling deeper and deeper into his own imagined despair until Gilgamesh _snorted,_ and then laughed, boldly, genuine mirth in his eyes.

“Are you serious?” he said, cocking one brow, completely ignoring Ardyn’s bewilderment at his reaction.

“Yes, I’m very much serious,” Ardyn replied, almost a little irritated that Gilgamesh seemed incapable of treating this situation with any kind of gravity. But maybe that meant he wasn’t so perturbed by all of it, maybe it didn’t nip at his heels the way it did Ardyn’s.

“Is it still there?” Gilgamesh sounded almost _too_ eager, too excited about all of this.

Ardyn worried his lip. He could lie to him, could tell him that no, the vilicus had had it chipped out this morning and hauled away with the other refuse, could bury this thread once and for all.

But he couldn’t lie to Gilgamesh, even if it were for the best. “Yes. It is.” After a short beat, he added a quick, “Why?”

“Because I want to see it.”

“You want to see it,” Ardyn repeated, incredulous. Gilgamesh nodded, starting to slide off the couch, feet hitting the marble floor. “What, right this very instant?”

“I have to see it before it’s taken down. I hardly imagine you’ve left orders for it to stay up on that wall,” he countered, a teasing lilt to his voice. He stood, turned, now waiting for Ardyn, expectant but not quite demanding.

_Are you coming with me?_

“Fine.”

\---

 

“Well, are you happy now? Did it live up to your expectations?”

Gilgamesh hummed beside him, chuckling softly. “I suppose.” He ran fingers along his jawline, stroking his beard there. “They didn’t quite get my beard right, though.”

“There’s graffiti of us being intimate on our front wall and you’re worried about how they painted your beard,” Ardyn said flatly, and Gilgamesh chuckled beside him, rolling into full, deep laughter, the kind that was so infections Ardyn found himself snickering a moment later.

“Of course I am,” Gilgamesh said, gesturing to their obscene fresco. “If they’re going to paint us like this, they should at least take care to get my likeness right.”

They stood in silence, shoulder to shoulder, both studying the lurid illustration splashed on the wall, illuminated by the glow of Ardyn’s oil lamp, dangling at the end a chain from the wooden handle. The canvas cover had been pulled aside, thrown back and caught on one of the nails the vilicus had driven in the wall to hold it in place, and it fluttered lightly in the night breeze.

“I think they’ll have it plastered over tomorrow,” Ardyn said, and he nearly jumped as Gilgamesh’s fingers brushed his own, a tease before Gilgamesh took Ardyn’s hand.

“A shame.” He pursed his lips. “Could’ve had it cut out and put in your bedchamber.”

Ardyn swung the lamp up slightly, leaning forward to look at Gilgamesh. “Doesn’t this bother you?” he asked, gesturing towards the painting with the lamp.

“It does.” Gilgamesh’s answer was flat and laced with a hint of sadness, and Ardyn dipped his head slightly in surprise, shifting his gaze instead back to the wall. “But I know that a petty, ignorant picture on a wall or words spoken behind my back change nothing. It doesn’t make me less of a warrior, it doesn’t change what I’ve done, what I’ve achieved.”

After a moment he added, “And neither does loving you, for that matter. I don’t think loving another man makes me lesser in any way. Especially not one like you.”

Ardyn lowered his gaze from the wall to the stones of the street, tracing the mortar lines with his stare as he slowly turned towards Gilgamesh, carefully lifting his head to look him in the face. Gilgamesh was still focused on the wall, but pulled his attentions away as he sensed Ardyn looking at him.

Careful to hold the lamp out, Ardyn took a little step towards him, closing the gap between them, and Gilgamesh turned to face him. Ardyn reached up with his free hand, laying his hand against Gilgamesh’s jaw, running his thumb along his full lower lip. Gilgamesh laid his own hand on Ardyn’s wrist, rough fingers curling around his forearm.

For a long moment, Ardyn just savored the intimacy, the closeness, ignoring the fact that they were out on the street in the middle of the night, with a base depiction of themselves mere steps away. Eventually he leaned up to kiss Gilgamesh, pushing himself on his toes to reach. Ardyn smiled as their lips met, sweetly at first, their kiss deepening, until he was fully caught up in their embrace, lost in the delicious rush.

Even as they pulled apart, Ardyn dropped his hand and kept his hold on Gilgamesh’s robes, unwilling to let him go just yet, staring at his fingers entangled in the purple fabric. Nervously, he licked his lower lip, gaze meandering up to Gilgamesh’s face, looking at him through a curtain of his own auburn hair.

This time, Gilgamesh was the one to pull him close, one hand skimming over the side of his face to curl around the back of his neck, tugging him forward. They kissed again, slower this time, but still laden with want, messy and a little awkward, Gilgamesh nipping at his lower lip before as they broke.

“What do they say about life imitating art?” Gilgamesh asked, a salacious lilt to his voice. “Do you think we should give our lovely wall decor some credence?”

“Out here,” Ardyn teased, “in the middle of the street? That’s a little bold, even for you.” He let his hand fall down Gilgamesh’s arm, grasping his hand and interlocking their fingers.

Gilgamesh gestured to the painting as Ardyn stepped back, leading him, pulling him along as he started back towards the gate. “Well, you always say fortune favors the bold,” he replied, matter-of-factly. Ardyn laughed sharply, continuing to lead him away.

“Then let’s see what fortune has in store for you.”

\---

 

Fortune aside, Ardyn had quite a bit in store for him.

The entire way over to Gilgamesh’s bedchambers they were pawing at one another, little brushes and touches and quick kisses, but Ardyn could feel the urgency, the sheer _need_ in the way Gilgamesh’s hands fondled him, could see it in his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust. It was unexpectedly erotic, to be desired so, and Ardyn couldn’t help reciprocate, all while wishing they didn’t have to navigate quite so many halls to Gilgamesh’s chambers. He wasted no time in getting the door open, shoving Gilgamesh inside before hastily pushing it closed.

The moment the door clicked snugly closed Gilgamesh was back on him, pulling Ardyn up into an embrace, groping him. Large hands cupped under his ass before dancing up the small of his back, trailing along his spine to just below his shoulders. Ardyn let him do as he pleased, nudging Gilgamesh back to the bed via hands on his waist, until the backs of Gilgamesh’s legs hit it. Ardyn urged him down a moment later, perched on the edge, Gilgamesh’s hands sliding down Ardyn’s back to settle at his hips.

“Someone’s rather eager,” Ardyn said, leaning down to kiss him as he stood between Gilgamesh’s thighs. He trailed his lips down Gilgamesh’s throat, biting lightly at the juncture of his shoulder as he slowly sank to his knees. His hands sought out the clasps and ties of Gilgamesh’s robes, undoing them with practiced ease, throwing the fabric to his sides, leaving the robes anchored only at his shoulders.

“Have to make up for yesterday,” Gilgamesh countered.

Ardyn’s hands skated up Gilgamesh’s chest, over his stomach, up to his pectorals, lightly raking his nails over the skin as they worked back down. He loved to do this, to touch and tease and map out every part of Gilgamesh’s musculature, note every scar and mark on his skin, appreciate the results of all the hard training he’d put himself through. His hands trailed down to Gilgamesh’s hips, briefly running over the tops of his thighs to slide back up along the insides to where his cock hung stiff between his legs, jutting from a thatch of dark curls.

Grinning playfully, Ardyn licked one palm and loosely curled his fist around the base of Gilgamesh’s cock, giving him a handful of long, slow, tight pulls to get him fully hard. His cock was thick and heavy in Ardyn’s hand, and Gilgamesh sighed at the first touch, cock twitching in Ardyn’s grasp as his head dipped forward, long hair spilling over his shoulder and into his face.

“Would you say this is enough credence?” Ardyn said, rather impishly. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he slowly worked Gilgamesh’s cock, staring up at him all the while, making his intent perfectly clear. Placing his free hand on the top of Gilgamesh’s thigh, Ardyn leaned in, pressing his lips to the side of his cock in a wet, perverse mockery of a kiss. He laved his tongue down the shaft to the head, flattening it out on the underside of Gilgamesh’s cock for a moment before parting his lips and sliding it into his mouth.

The gesture pulled a low groan from Gilgamesh, the muscles in his thigh tensing beneath Ardyn’s hand as he clearly fought the urge to thrust deeper into the wet heat of Ardyn’s mouth. Ardyn moaned around his cock, slowly starting to bob his head, moving forward and then drawing back and leaving just the head between his lips. Ardyn was all too well aware of just how obscene he could make this act should he choose to, and sometimes, like now, he wanted to preen a bit.

He kept his hand anchored at the base of Gilgamesh’s cock, working what he couldn’t fit into his mouth with his fist, and Ardyn quickly set an even rhythm of rather deep, deliberate strokes. Gilgamesh’s cock was heavy on his tongue, heady, salty and a little bitter, but Ardyn loved the feel of it, loved how it stretched his mouth just enough to make his jaw ache, loved that he could never quite take him all the way to the root

His gaze wandered back up to Gilgamesh’s face, looking up at him through a haze of his own desire, finding Gilgamesh caught in a similar fog, his eyes half lidded in lust and want. They made eye contact for a moment, Gilgamesh reaching down to tangle his fingers in Ardyn’s unruly hair, and Ardyn groaned at the contact, arousal shooting through him. His own cock throbbed between his legs, his interest bolstered with each sigh and groan he pulled from Gilgamesh.

“No painting could ever do this sight justice,” Gilgamesh sighed, affectionately carding his fingers through Ardyn’s unruly locks, mussing them further.

Pulling off, Ardyn pushed Gilgamesh’s cock up towards his stomach, pressed red, slick lips to the base, and then ran his tongue up the underside, flicking over the head before taking him back into his mouth. It was veritable _worship,_ he thought to himself, but as far as subjects went, there were far worse things to pay reverence to than the cock before him.

Ardyn slid his hand off Gilgamesh’s thigh, reaching down between his own legs, cupping his cock through his robes and grinding into his palm. Above him, Gilgamesh chuckled, eyes alight, clearly amused by the sight before him, and Ardyn hollowed out his cheeks and sucked, taking Gilgamesh particularly deep on the next thrust, determined to wipe that smirk off his face and make him come undone.

Something about his efforts worked, because Gilgamesh grunted and then sighed, his hips stuttering, and Ardyn could see the muscles of his stomach tense. He picked up his pace, moving his hand in time with his mouth, working all of Gilgamesh’s cock, vaguely aware of how unseemly he must look, on his knees, hair mussed, face flushed, lips stretched wide around another man’s cock.

 _This_ was what had been painted on their wall, the image of Ardyn like this, on his knees like a whore, sucking cock like it was his sole purpose in life, and that realization sent a thrill straight through him, settling low in his stomach, his cock jerking under his palm. He moaned around Gilgamesh’s cock, shutting his eyes for a brief moment, and something about that sight must have pushed Gilgamesh over the edge. Sharp, bitter liquid flooded his mouth as Gilgamesh grunted above him, and Ardyn fought the instinct to yank his head back as Gilgamesh’s cock pulsed in his mouth, keeping his jaw slack and slowly pumping him through his orgasm, swallowing around the head of his cock.

Ardyn pulled off when Gilgamesh was well and truly through it, no longer tense under his hands, easing his head back as Gilgamesh’s fingers affectionately pushed his hair out of his face. He let go of Gilgamesh’s cock, using the back of his hand instead to wipe away the spit and semen that had beaded at one corner of his mouth, trying to be quick and nonchalant about it.

Whether or not Gilgamesh noticed didn’t seem to matter, as a second later he was beckoning him to stand, a hand pulling lightly at the shoulder of his robes. Ardyn stood, rising up off his knees, and Gilgamesh immediately pulled him close, sitting further back on the mattress and bracketing Ardyn with his thighs. He reached up to cup his hand around the back of Ardyn’s skull, tugging him in for a kiss, one that was languid and lurid all in the same measure.

Gilgamesh’s broad, rough hands roamed over Ardyn’s torso, snaking around to his back, and then down to the curve of his ass, gripping tightly. Ardyn sucked in a sharp breath, rolling his hips forward, pressing the hard length of his cock against Gilgamesh’s own, smiling wickedly at Gilgamesh’s slight surprise.

The hands cupped under his ass guided him further forward, Ardyn sliding a little ungracefully into Gilgamesh’s lap on the bed, straddling him. His robes bunched at the front, half thrown over his legs as Ardyn settled himself, but a moment later Gilgamesh was fussing with the clasps, thick fingers pulling the ties open. Ardyn placed his hands on Gilgamesh’s shoulders as Gilgamesh threw the robes open, baring his chest and waist, and Ardyn arched into the first touch of those rough hands on his ribs, skimming up to his collarbones.

His cock brushed against the hard planes of Gilgamesh’s stomach, the friction unexpected and _good,_ and Ardyn rolled his hips again, chasing after more. He nearly startled when a warm, thick hand closed around his cock, bucking up as Gilgamesh wrapped him in a loose fist, slowly stroking him.

“What do you want, love?” Gilgamesh asked, mouthing at Ardyn’s throat.

“Everything,” Ardyn replied breathily.

He let Gilgamesh ply him with touches and teases, wet, rough lips latched to his neck, slowly working down to his chest while surprisingly nimble hands continued to explore his torso. Ardyn gasped softly as Gilgamesh tweaked his nipple, sucking in a sharp breath when Gilgamesh’s mouth closed around it a second later. He squirmed, threading his fingers into Gilgamesh’s long, soft, dark hair, fist clenching and unclenching as Gilgamesh continued his ministrations.

Those broad hands slid around his waist, then moved lower, appreciatively kneading and squeezing the globes of his ass. Ardyn groaned, bucking his hips up, grinding against the hard planes of Gilgamesh’s stomach, his cock trapped between them. Gilgamesh growled in response, working his way back up, lightly sinking his teeth into Ardyn’s shoulder above his collarbone. Gasping, Ardyn rolled his hips again, desperate for friction, his cock throbbing, so hard it bordered on painful.

Gilgamesh shifted below him, drawing back just slightly to slip his own cock free from where it lay pushing up into the bottom of Ardyn’s thigh. Ardyn leaned back in, biting his lip as he rocked his hips forward again, cock sliding against Gilgamesh’s own, both of them hard and leaking. It was obscene, their cocks sliding past one another, the friction sending thrills through Ardyn, little shocks of pleasure that ran up his thighs and settled in his groin.

He gasped as one of Gilgamesh’s large hands closed around both of their cocks, just enough to guide them as Ardyn moved his hips again, more urgently this time. Ardyn startled at the contact, felt his cock twitch in Gilgamesh’s grasp, leaking copiously. It was so primal, rubbing off against one another like this, a needy struggle of crude thrusts and rough touches, scored by low groans and ragged panting.

Ardyn shucked his robes, letting them drop to the floor as he continued to ride Gilgamesh, seated astride his lap, undulating his hips in time with Gilgamesh’s pistoning up from below.  He was moaning now, softly but still wantonly, his arms thrown over Gilgamesh’s shoulders, hands tangled up in his hair as they traded messy, hungry kisses. Gilgamesh’s beard was rough on his face, scraping against Ardyn’s jaw when he would nip at Ardyn’s lower lip between embraces, and Ardyn was sure he’d have marks in the morning, but none of that mattered now, not with this man pulling at him, so full of _want_ and _need._

Caught up in the chase for release, Ardyn closed his eyes, bucking his hips erratically, sighing deeply. He could feel his orgasm building, tight in his groin, so _close,_ nearly─

He blinked his eyes open as Gilgamesh stopped moving. “Don’t be a _bastard,_ ” he whined, as those strong hands gripped him firmly at the waist, swinging Ardyn as Gilgamesh laid him out on the bed, on his back, their legs tangled together. Gilgamesh settled himself beside Ardyn a moment later, urging him onto his shoulder and side as Gilgamesh pressed up along him.

Ardyn pushed back against him, teasing, feeling Gilgamesh’s hard cock slide against his thigh as Gilgamesh nuzzled the back of his neck. Unwilling to waste more time, Ardyn charmed his hand with slick, reaching down for Gilgamesh’s cock and giving it several long, hard pulls to thoroughly wet it. Gilgamesh’s cock was thick in his hand, hot and almost impossibly hard _again_ , the tip drooling, and Ardyn swirled his thumb over the slit.

Eager for more, Ardyn released Gilgamesh’s cock, reaching back instead to grip his thigh, cupping a hand under the curve of his ass. He tugged him close, pulling him flush as that wonderfully thick cock slid into the narrow space between his own legs, at the tops of his thighs. Ardyn sighed in satisfaction, squeezing his legs tighter, feeling the entire length of Gilgamesh’s cock pressing up along his groin and ass. He could hear Gilgamesh panting behind him, each hot little puff of breath ghosting against his neck, sending prickles down Ardyn’s spine.

Slowly, Gilgamesh drew back and then thrust once more into that spot, Ardyn digging his fingers into the back of his thigh to pull him closer as they met, grinding back against him with a wiggle of his hips. His cock bobbed, straining into the air, stiff and untouched and neglected now, and Ardyn released Gilgamesh’s thigh, about to reach for himself when Gilgamesh stirred behind him. A moment later Gilgamesh’s broad arms were encircling him, his top arm draped possessively over Ardyn’s chest, the one below him curling up to slide down his stomach and grasp his cock in a tight, warm fist. Ardyn let out a harsh, stuttering groan, jerking his hips up into Gilgamesh’s firm grip as he twisted his head back.

It took them a few moments to find a real rhythm, Ardyn’s hand settling back on Gilgamesh’s thigh, while he shoved his own hips back in time with each upstroke, Gilgamesh using the hand on his chest as an anchor to pull him just a bit further down. They found their tempo eventually, moving together, Ardyn writhing against Gilgamesh, against that solid wall of heat and muscle at his back, with that cock driving against him, fucking up between his thighs, hard and hot and oh so urgent.

Ardyn felt his pleasure build quickly this time around, a tightness low in his groin, bolstered by the feel of Gilgamesh behind him and the sensations between his legs, coupled with the skilled hand tugging at his cock with firm, steady pulls. He chased it now, seeking his own release, hips jutting up erratically into Gilgamesh’s fist before pushing back down onto that insistent length, each stroke getting him a hair closer, closer until─

His orgasm washed over him suddenly, Ardyn gasping and digging his fingers into the meat of Gilgamesh’s thigh as his cock spasmed in that wonderful grip, pleasure bolting through him. He arched his back and strained against the immovable object behind him, rocking his hips and grinding on the hard cock between his legs, voice trailing off into a satisfied, breathy moan.

Sated and now pliant, Ardyn basked in the afterglow as Gilgamesh continued to thrust against him, growing more frantic and fitful until Ardyn felt warm wetness between his thighs, Gilgamesh groaning sharply, lips pressed to the back of Ardyn’s neck, the sound half-muffled into his skin.

They lay tangled together until they’d regained enough composure to separate, Ardyn laying out on his back, settling himself on the pile of pillows at the headboard as Gilgamesh moved back to create space between them. He glanced down at his body as he arranged himself, his softening cock resting against his lower stomach, skin brushed over with a fine sheen of sweat, Gilgamesh’s finish smeared on the insides of his thighs, glistening in the low light of the room.

They still had a little time, Ardyn reasoned, before he should sneak back through the halls to his own bedchamber, mulling the thought over as Gilgamesh leaned over to kiss him. Their lips met in a languid, amatory fashion, Gilgamesh’s tongue sliding past his own to dive into his mouth. After a moment, Gilgamesh broke the kiss to stretch out beside him on his stomach, arms folded under his head.

“So how long until they paint us like _that_?” Ardyn said, sitting up slightly on the pillows. “Fucking like our lives depended on it.”

“Give it a few weeks,” Gilgamesh said. “I’m sure someone will come up with something.”

Ardyn chuckled, lifting a hand to affectionately push Gilgamesh’s long hair from his face.

“That would look nice up on the north wall, though, don’t you think?” Gilgamesh teased, his eyes alight with excitement and affection. “A large spread of us fucking, side by side.” He untangled his arms to gesture for emphasis.

“Oh, stop.” Grinning, Ardyn shook his hand in Gilgamesh’s hair, pushing it back into his face. “You know that would look better on the east wall, where the gardens are.”

Gilgamesh laughed for a moment, trailing off into comfortable silence between them. Ardyn traced little nothings over Gilgamesh’s shoulder, fingertips dancing over a scar, long worn and nearly faded into this brown skin. Gilgamesh settled back on his arms, just watching him, eyes half lidded and drowsy.

“Do you want to stay?” Gilgamesh said after what felt like such a long while, but in reality must have only been a matter of minutes.

“I can’t,” Ardyn said, correcting himself a moment later to, “I _shouldn’t._ ”

Gilgamesh turned slightly to get a better look at him. “Everyone here no doubt knows now, after today,” he commented, not snidely, but in a rather blasé way. “What’s wrong with a little indulgence so long as we don’t make it a habit?”

Ardyn frowned, knuckles skimming over the dip of his spine now, trailing up to his shoulder blades. Gilgamesh did have a point; it was nearly certain that everyone in the estate knew by now, either from direct witness or through gossip. A little idle talk among the staff of Ardyn of leaving Gilgamesh’s room in the morning couldn’t damage his reputation any further, really, so long as they didn’t openly flaunt their relationship.

Evidently Ardyn hesitated too long with his reply, and Gilgamesh hooked an arm possessively around his waist, pulling him down slightly and draping himself along Ardyn’s side, head resting at his shoulder. Ardyn fidgeted slightly, settling himself, not used to being held so.

But he could certainly stay like this until morning.


End file.
